My Guardian Angel
by Sassycaslovesdean
Summary: Dean is an average highschooler living an average life, but that all changes when his highschool is struck by a fire one day. He is saved by a mysterious man, and eventually he must come to terms with the fact that that man is his guardian angel. Angel's are real, and Dean was saved by one. This is a Destiel love story about a human and an angel, who fell in love despite the odds.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters or anything to do with Supernatural.

 _Beep, beep, beep_

The alarm clock relentlessly blared the noise, filling the small room with a forced liveliness.

Dean groaned as he buried his face into his pillow in an attempt to drown out the noise. The alarm signified the need to get up and go to school, and that seemed like the last thing that Dean wanted at the moment. His bed always seemed so warm and inviting in the morning, like it was made of the softest clouds that heaven could fathom. He inhaled the soothing scent of his pillow, trying his hardest to ignore the screaming alarm clock.

The noise seemed to build up to a point where it was louder than gunshots, and at that point Dean decided that he could no longer ignore it. Dean moaned as he rolled over and slapped a lazy hand on top of the clock to silence it.

The room fell strangely silent, but it was not a peaceful silence. It was as if the alarm clock had disturbed the peaceful rest that Dean had previously acquired, and now made it impossible for said peace to return.

"Stupid clock." Dean muttered as he rolled his lower half out of bed, his legs hanging off the bedside. He made an attempt to rub the sleep out of his eyes and then blinked a few times as if trying to dispel any desires for sleep that may still be lingering.

With a rather loud moan, he heaved himself onto his feet and out of his bed entirely. His gaze darted about the room for a moment, taking in all of the clothes that were scattered about the floor and all of the sport's trophies that littered the shelves. With a small, tired frown, he walked over to his dresser and picked up a shirt that was lying on top of it. He held it up to his face and gave it a sniff. It didn't smell too bad. It kind of smelled faintly of coffee, but he figured it could be worse. It could smell like sweat or chemicals. He shrugged, figuring he was not going to get much better. He grabbed the shirt along with a pair of jeans that he found on the floor and headed for the bathroom for his morning shower.

The shower felt nice. It was lukewarm water that helped to wake him up, and he felt refreshed, his earlier battle with his bed and alarm clock now forgotten.

He quickly towel dried his hair as he slid his shirt on. It was a tight gray t-shirt. He put down his towel to give himself a brief look in the mirror. He looked acceptable. It would have to do.

He made his way out of his room and headed down the stairs towards the kitchen.

His father was seated at the dining room table with a newspaper in hand. He did not even seem to notice Dean's entrance.

Dean was only acknowledged by his mother, who spun around from the kitchen with a wide smile on her face. "Good morning, Dean. I made pancakes." She spoke sweetly, which seemed to be something she always did, except for when she was mad. She was a kind woman, which seemed to contrast his father's cold nature.

"Thanks, Mom." Dean thanked the friendly blonde woman as he reached over to the counter to grab a plate and some pancakes before sitting himself down at the table across from his father, who still did not look up from his paper and only muttered "Dean" with a slight jerk of his head as a greeting.

"Hey, Dad." Dean greeted back as he pulled out his fork and began ravenously eating the food in front of him. "Where's Sam?" He asked as he scanned the room lazily for any signs of his younger brother, but it would appear that Sam had not yet come down the stairs.

"Taking his sweet time." Dean's father grumbled without moving his gaze from the paper. His gaze seemed to be locked in one spot as if he were not even reading the paper, but just looking at it so that he could ignore his family and have an excuse for it.

"John…" Dean's mother's voice was still soft as she spoke, but it now had firmer tinge to it. "Sam's only thirteen. Try to cut him some slack. He probably needed a bit more time to sleep." His mother reasoned as she flipped over the pancake she was currently cooking.

"Doesn't mean he should make the rest of us late." John groused back as he buried himself further in the newspaper.

"Give him some time. He'll make it." Dean's mother responded gently.

John said nothing in response other than an irritated huff, but he opened his mouth as if he were going to only to be interrupted as Sam came running down the stairs with his hair disheveled and circles below his eyes.

"Sorry. I slept in. I was up late last night writing an English essay and-" Sam began to frantically explain, but he was interrupted by John, who did not seem to care for his excuse.

"Just hurry up and eat so we can get a move on already, and don't let it happen again." John demanded strictly as he finally lifted his gaze from the newspaper to glare at Sam.

Sam immediately silenced himself as he took his seat like a puppy who had just been yelled at for chewing on brand new shoes.

Dean grabbed a plate for Sam and handed it over to his little brother along with a quick sympathetic glance. He felt bad for Sam. John worked weird hours, and it oftentimes left him in a bad mood, which was quite often taken out on either him or Sam, so he could understand how Sam must have been feeling at that point.

Sam gave Dean a quick smile meant to assure him that he was fine as he took the plate from Dean's hands.

"Hurry up." John grunted as he stood to leave. "I'll be waiting in the car." John took his paper and folded it perfunctionaly before shoving it into the briefcase that had been resting at his side. He then went into the kitchen and kissed his wife on the cheek in a ritualistic manner before he went out the door in silence.

Dean wolfed down his pancakes as fast as he could. It was not a good idea to keep John waiting, especially when he was in a bad mood. "Ready, Sammy?" Dean turned to his little brother as he got up to leave.

Sam had a mouthful of pancake, but he still nodded as he got up from the table to grab his backpack and run for the door.

"Sam!" Their mother called after him, and he turned around in response. "Make sure to swallow before you go." She instructed gently.

Sam took a large gulp in response and then smiled to show her that he had done as he was asked.

She smiled warmly as she responded. "Good boy. Now, have a good day, sweetie."

Sam nodded before he ran out the door, calling "Goodbye, Mom!"

Dean soon followed his brother out the door in a similar fashion, saying goodbye to his mother in the process.

"Finally." John snorted. "I thought you two would never show up."

"Sorry, Dad." Dean mumbled, knowing that his father probably did not want to hear excuses again.

"Just get in." John muttered in defeat, and his two sons did exactly that, sitting in the deathly silent car on the whole ride to school.

 _Another day in hell._

That's really what school was. High Schoolers were all just lost souls trapped to the confinements of the Devil's playground. Teachers were cruel, and the workload was unbearable. Classes were long and torturous, and nearly everyone was two faced. Everybody hated each other, but there were very few that actually would admit that to someone's face. It was an every man for himself kind of world, and that was just the atmosphere of the supposed learning site. The only part of school that was of any good was the lunch break. It was really the only thing that got Dean through the day. Dean disliked most people. He found them to all be posers and narcissistic, but he did have a group of friends that he actually liked, and he found them to be the only tolerable people in the whole school. It was a select group that hardly ever let in new members. They always sat at the same lunch table every day, and everyone knew that. People knew better than to mess with their group, which was known for kicking butt and taking names. Each one of them played a few sports or were otherwise skilled with some sort of combat, so other students often let them be.

"Hellooo. Earth to Dean." A young blonde girl waved her hand in front of Dean's face.

Dean playfully shoved her hand away from his face as he responded. "You know what, Jo? I am allowed to think a little bit, but I suppose you wouldn't know about that." He teased the small blonde girl.

Jo rolled her eyes in response. "Right. You expect me to believe that _you_ actually like to sit down and ponder your place in the universe?" She replied sarcastically before she took on a more sly tone as she leaned in to give Dean a playful shoulder shove. "We all know what you were really thinking about." She said in a low, mischievous voice.

Dean visibly tensed up. He knew perfectly well what she was referring to. Across from their table sat Lisa Braeden, one of the most popular girls in the school. Sure, Dean thought she was hot, but there did not seem to be much more to her than that. She appeared nice and all, but he could see that it was probably just fake, and she like many other girls her age was probably a lot less sunshine and rainbows behind people's backs. Now, there was no way to know that for sure. She could very well just be a nice person, but in Dean's experience that rarely happened. He was just kind of sick of it. He was sick of dating girls because they were all the same. He felt like he repeatedly dated the same girl over and over again, and it just got to be too tiresome. He had a few boyfriends, but there were not too many openly bi or gay boys in his school, which really irritated him. "It's not like that, Jo." Dean muttered in protest.

"Oh come on! She's pretty!" Exclaimed a red-head seated across from Jo.

"I know, Charlie, and that's great and all, but…" Dean began to try explain his train of thought, but he cut himself off as he noticed the curiously concerned gazes that were fixed on him. "I'm just not feeling it, ya know?"

The redhead shook her head at Dean. "Fine, but if you don't want her, then I am calling dibs." She replied with a devious grin.

"Have at it." Dean replied unenthusiastically.

"Something the matter, brother?" Asked a smaller, well-built man, who was seated across from Dean.

"Nah, Benny. I think I just need a break from dating is all." Dean replied with a casual shrug.

"Since when do you need a break? You're nearly always dating someone new every week!" Jo replied incredulously.

"Everybody needs a break eventually." Muttered the last member of their group, a young, dark-haired boy named Kevin.

Dean's eyes widened in agreement as he motioned to Kevin as proof of his point. "See?"

Charlie dismissed them with a wave of her hand. "I'd rather take a break later then. The party's just getting started now." She shot Dean a mischievous look as she spoke, her voice seeping with excitement.

"Go right ahead. Whatever floats your boat, Charles." Dean replied with an over exaggerated eye roll.

"Watch and learn." Charlie replied as she slyly stood up from the table to go over to Lisa's table. There were a few girls that were already checking Charlie out, even as she was walking over.

Dean could not suppress a small grin. "She's already won and she's not even there yet."

Benny did not even bother to turn around. He knew how this went. Charlie and Dean were the biggest flirts out of all of them, and they were rarely ever turned down. Benny remained completely neutral as he casually ate his ham sandwich.

Jo only rolled her eyes. "The two of you just don't know when to quit." She muttered to Dean as she returned to eating her salad.

Dean only grunted his agreement, but it was Kevin who let out a low moan. "This again. It's always Charlie or Dean. I swear. One of them is always flirting with _someone_ at lunch."

That much was true. Benny preferred to keep to himself, even at lunch he remained generally neutral. He was a good listener and a very devoted friend, and he was also very good at football and hockey.

Kevin was probably the dorkiest out of all of them, although Charlie was actually into a lot of geekier shows and books. Kevin was really smart, and he served as the common sense of the group. Despite being really small and geeky, Kavin was quite skilled with hand to hand combat because his mom taught self defense classes.

Jo, on the other hand, preferred being single. Her father was dead, so her mother had raised her alone, so she seemed to have adopted that mentality. Jo was really good at soccer and wrestling. She could take down anyone. She was also fairly skilled with a gun, seeing as she went on frequent hunting trips.

She had actually been the one to teach Charlie, who was now the master of all guns. Charlie did not play sports, but people knew better than to mess with her because of her reputation with a gun, even if she was into dorkier things. Charlie was one of those rare people who can be a little bit of everything and still be cool. She was not afraid to be herself, and that was one of the major reasons why she was Dean's best friend.

Charlie returned to the table with a victory token - the numbers of a few of the girls at the table - and a triumphant grin.

"Come on, Charlie. Tell us all about what went down over there." Dean urged the eager red-head as she returned to her seat.

"So… I went over there, and a few of them weren't interested. You know, straight and all, but the others were just so eager…" Charlie rambled happily, and Dean was happy for her. Every victory Charlie ever made was a victory for him too. She was his best friend, and he loved seeing her that happy.

Classes were so boring, especially History class. If there was one class that Dean hated most, it was History class. He thought it to be Satan's personal creation. What was even the point to learning history? It was just a bunch of onerous dates and fabricated stories. He felt his eyes begin to close as he lay back in his history desk. A content smile spread across his features as he felt a sweet slumber begin to drift onto him.

 _Beep, beep, beep_

The noise filled the room. It sounded like Dean's alarm clock on steroids. Dean's eyes flew open instantly as he looked around in agitation. _I was just drifting off!_ His irritable mood soon faded as he looked around to realize that the other students were all at the door already, evacuating the school.

" , please evacuate the building. This is not a drill." The history teacher blandly instructed him.

Dean looked up at his teacher in shocked confusion. One second ago they had been having boring history lecture, and the next they were all evacuating the building. He sprang to his feet without a word of protest as the stench of smoke hit his nostrils. _The school is on fire. Looks like it is hell after all._ He followed the crowd out towards the door, and resumed following them through the hallway.

He knew that his mind should be racing, but he was actually relatively calm as he followed the crowd to the exit. Strangely enough, the fire was only a few rooms away from the nearest exit, so the whole surrounding area was filled with smoke.

The air felt intoxicating. It was heavy and dry, and it was so very hard to breathe in, but Dean knew he would just have to deal with it; he was going to be out in about a minute anyway.

That was, until he heard a cry for help. It was a female voice as far as Dean could tell, and it sounded vaguely familiar, but that did not really matter at that moment. What mattered was helping whoever the voice belonged to.

He ran towards the voice, which happened to be in the same direction as the smoke flow, and froze for a second as he saw the source of the screaming. It was none other than Lisa trapped in a snare of flames. She turned to look up at Dean with wide, pleading eyes, and Dean knew he could not leave her there. She needed help, and he would have to take a risk in order to help her. That was just the right thing to do.

Dean took in a deep breath as he ran through the smoky room, trying his hardest to avoid the flames, but still getting licked by hungry flames.

He made his way to Lisa with only minor injuries and bent down to help her. She was coughing from all of the smoke, and she seemed like she could pass out at any second. "I'm going to get you out of here." Dean promised the half-conscious girl, who simply coughed and gave a weak nod in response.

Dean hooked one of her arms around his shoulder and then gave a heave to get her onto her feet. He searched the room for a possible exit. The way that he had entered had been entirely dominated by flames. Actually, nearly the entire room had been submerged in flames, and in that moment, Dean realized he was going to die. _This is it. This is how I go? Trapped and helpless? That can't happen. I've at least got to get her out._ A look of pure determination emerged on Dean's face as he scanned the room again. _There has to be another way out._

There was a window not too far away, but the path there was practically a trail of fire. _It's the best shot I've got_. He told himself as he hardened his stare on the window. There was no backing down. He was going to have to charge through those flames, or let them eat him and Lisa alive. He had to at least try. _Might as well go out with a bang._ That thought gave him the strength to hurdle himself through the flame with an arm trying to keep the flames off of Lisa as he made his way to the window.

Dean was covered in burn marks when he arrived at the window, but Lisa was considerably better. She had passed out some time ago, but that was alright; it made her easier to carry. "Come on. Come on. Just open already." Dean wheezed as he tried to force the window open. It would not budge, and he no longer possessed the strength to smash it open. His limbs were beginning to go numb, and he could feel his head swimming. He was going to pass out soon too, and then they would both die inside that building. _Not like this…_ Dean thought as he finally drifted out of consciousness, his head hitting the ground with a thud.

The next thing Dean knew, he was surrounded by this overpowering light. He felt something pick him up. He was only half awake, so distinguishing who or what seemed impossible, but whatever it was had gotten out with ease. Dean began to stir in his savior's arms, and he felt his carrier tense up in response. He was laid down on the ground propped up against a tree a good distance from the school, but close enough that someone would find him pretty soon. Lisa was placed lying down next to him, still clearly unconscious. Dean tried to pry his eyes open in order to see who had saved him, but they felt so heavy. He had no energy left. He focused everything he had into opening his eyes just to see him.

Yes. It was a him. It was a brief glance, but Dean saw him standing over him with a hand outstretched as if he were going to place two fingers on Dean's forehead. He was wearing some kind of overcoat that looked really old and tacky, and his hair was a rumpled mess, but the strangest feature was his eyes. They were _glowing_ a bright blue. There was also some kind of bizarre bright light surrounding the man, but that could logically be attributed to Dean's eyes not having adjusted to the light yet.

The man pulled his hand away when he saw that Dean's eyes were half open. This look of overwhelming shock took over his face came over his face as he backed away. He vanished into thin air without a warning, leaving Dean to sit there wondering what on earth had just happened before passing out again.


	2. Chapter 2

_Beep, beep, beep_

Dean woke up once again to the sound of beeping, but this beeping was much softer and steadier than the beep of either the alarm clock or the the fire alarm. This beep was low and calm. Dean pried his eyes open to try and locate the source of the beeping.

His eyes were met with immediate resistance from some blinding light above him. He cringed as he tried to get a steady enough focus to adjust to the light.

"Dean? Oh, Dean." Dean heard the familiar ring of his mother's voice, which sounded incredibly relieved. "You're awake, baby. I was so worried." She sounded genuine too as her hand came to tenderly stroke Dean's face.

Dean managed to open his eyes, immediately turning them away from the bright light in the ceiling and towards his mother.

There were dried tears on her face, and her eyes seemed glazed over as if threatening to spill tears again. There was a soft smile on her face that was really purely from relief and love for her son. "Thank God you're okay." She stroked his face as if it were the softest thing she had ever touched.

"When - How did I get here?" Dean mumbled as his eyes locked onto his mother's, searching her gaze for answers.

She shook her head as she withdrew her hand and leaned against the bed, elbows pressed to the mattress and her face cupped in her hands. "The Firefighters found you passed out by a tree. It was a good thing that you were able to carry you and Lisa out of there, otherwise…" A distantly sad look overtook his mother's eyes, but it slowly disappeared when she moved on from the subject. "I'm just glad you're okay." She finished with a sincere smile.

Dean's face scrunched up in confusion. "But… I didn't save Lisa. Someone carried us both out." Dean responded with confusion clear in his voice. He remembered the man who had carried him out. It was a vague memory, but he knew it had to be real. How else could he have gotten out of that building?

Dean's mother did not seem to be any less confused than Dean. "Honey, there was no one else. The firefighters took you to an ambulance. Maybe that's what you're thinking of." She rationalized while keeping her gentle tone.

Dean shook his head. "That wasn't it. A man took me out of the fire. I was going to die, but he saved me." Dean insisted, still sounding uncertain of himself.

His mother's lip twitched as the corner of her mouth began to sag down into a frown. "Dean, Lisa remembers you carrying her out and putting her down by the tree. She said you passed out right after that. Are you feeling okay, honey? Maybe I should call the nurse." Her voice was tinged with concern and a hint of fear as she spoke, her body slowly shifting towards the call button about a foot away at the nightstand.

Dean thought about it for a moment. That seemed to go against everything he remembered. He remembered passing out _inside_ the school. He remembered being carried, and he remembered the man standing over him. "Maybe I dreamed the whole thing? Or hallucinated?" He wondered out loud. It seemed too vivid to be a dream. He remembered the man. He remembered his thoughts right before he died. He remembered the bright light that accompanied the man.

Those were hard things to just imagine. It didn't make sense. _Something else has to be going on here…_

The concern was still etched on Mary's face as she watched her son mentally work over the possible causes for his confusion. "I should get the nurse. Maybe she can help." She suggested, forcing positivity into her voice.

"Yeah. I guess." Dean complied unenthusiastically. He was not sure that a nurse could help. The nurse was not there. The nurse did not see it happen and would not be able to answer his question, but he did not want to further worry his mother.

Mary accepted that as a decent answer as she reached over to the table to press the button and ring for the nurse, who said she would be there momentarily. Mary then stood to leave. "I'll let you have your privacy. Dad and Sam will be here soon." There was some sort of masked hurt expression on her face that worried Dean.

"Thanks, Mom, but…" Dean hesitated. Whatever was bothering his mother was obviously not something she wanted to tell him, and maybe that was for the best, but he still wanted to be there for her. "Is everything okay?" He asked quietly.

Mary stiffened a little bit in her place before she managed to relax her body again. "Everything's fine now that I know you're okay. I guess angels were watching over you after all."

That was the truth, but it was not all of it. Dean could only guess that it had something to do with the fact that John was no anywhere to be seen yet, and he knew better than to question her about that. "Thanks, Mom." Dean responded sweetly, trying to mask his growing concern.

Mary gave him a warm smile before leaving the room, and Dean found himself alone for a moment, but all he could think about was that weird man with the trenchcoat and the mad bedhead. He could remember the piercing light and the bright blue eyes. Those eyes didn't even look human. He had never met anyone else who had glowing eyes. Perhaps it was a dream or a hallucination. How could that be real anyway?

Dean was interrupted from his thought process as a nurse came into the room without even the smallest of knocks. She startled him so much that he ended up staring at her when she entered. She was a pretty blonde, but she had this obnoxiously fake smile on her face that almost made Dean wish he was still unconscious.

"How are you doing, sweetie?" She asked in a slight New Jersey accent.

"Uh… I'm fine for someone who just came from a fire." Dean remarked with slight sarcasm to his tone.

She giggled at him, but it was this shrill high pitched giggle that seemed unnatural. "You're a cutie." She spoke like she was twenty years older than him, even though she appeared to only be in her late twenties.

"Don't I know it." Dean replied with a smug lift of his eyebrow.

That only caused the nurse to let out another obnoxious giggle. "Honestly though. There had to be something you needed other than some company." The nurse replied.

Dean shrugged. He didn't want to mention what he saw to her. She would not be of any help. She had not even been there. "I think I just need to sleep." Dean replied nonchalantly.

"Alright. I'll get you some sleeping aids." The nurse agreed as she rifled through a nearby cabinet. "Goodnight, hun." She spoke casually as she found the sleeping aid and gave it to Dean without a moment's hesitation before leaving him alone in the room.

 _It was not real. It couldn't be. Maybe Mom misunderstood Lisa. I'll talk to her when I wake up and see what she knows._ Dean decided as a yawn escaped his lips and sleep overtook his dreary body.

Dean woke up some time later that day to find that John and Sam had joined Mary in his room. Sam was napping in a chair in the corner, and John and Mary were intensely whispering to each other not far from him.

Dean began to stir as he forced his body upwards into a sitting position, his eyes still closed because of that annoying light.

The muttering stopped as soon as one of the arguing parents - probably Mary - realized that Dean had regained consciousness.

"Hey, sweetie. How are you feeling?" Mary gently inquired, her face soft with sympathy.

Dean's eyes focused on his family sitting across the room, avoiding that gaudy light. Mary looked exhausted, and apparently, so was Sam, seeing as the kid was out like a light and snoring like an old lawnmower. "I'm fine." He groggily mumbled in response. "I feel better after that nap."

Something about that statement must have been amusing because John snorted in response, causing Dean to quirk an eyebrow.

"What?" Dean asked, purely confused.

"I thought you were going to sleep the day away, boy. You've been 'napping' for hours now, practically the whole day." John replied, clearly amused.

"Oh." Was the only word that escaped Dean's lips.

Mary gave him a reassuring smile. "It's okay, honey. I was just telling John how you needed your sleep if you were going to heal correctly." She shot John a miniscule glare that was almost not worth of the glare label. It was more of a stern look that was meant to remind John of something, presumably the conversation they had been having before Dean woke up.

"I think he's going to need more than just sleep, Mary." John muttered back as his eyes focused on Dean, which gave Dean an uneasy feeling.

Dean had not seen himself in a mirror yet. He didn't know what he looked like. _It can't be that bad, right? I couldn't have been in that fire for too long. I feel fine, so it really shouldn't be too bad._ "Why?" Dean asked quizzically.

"Just a few burns is all." Mary assured him almost urgently. There was some bizarre sense of worry hidden in her voice that made Dean question what she was hiding.

"A few burns that practically cover his whole body." John huffed, his arms folded against his chest and one leg resting on top of the other as he slouched back in his chair.

Mary shot him another glare. This one was definitely a glare in itself. It was stronger and firmer than the last one as if she was trying to silence him with one look. "They're not that bad." She insisted.

John rolled his eyes in response. "Alright. Fine." He glanced back at her, his eyes almost begrudgingly soft. It was like they were silently saying 'You win. Whatever makes you happy.'

Dean eyed them suspiciously. He wanted to see the burns for himself now. Mary was an optimist and John was a pessimist, so he could not really trust the judgement of either of them if he wanted an honest answer. "I think I'll go to the bathroom. Too much sleeping kind of fills up a bladder I guess." He joked as he slid his lower half out of bed, finding that it felt onerously heavy like it was made out of lead.

His parents watched him with concern etched onto their features, which John did a better job at hiding.

Dean forced himself onto his feet, finding himself to be a little bit unstable at first. He nearly fell over, but it only took him a few seconds to regain his balance. _That's probably an after affect of the smoke._ He tested out his legs. They seemed to be working just fine, the only problem with them being the slight burning sensation that ran up his left leg whenever he applied pressure to it, but he knew he could live with that. It could have been worse.

He didn't want to further worry his parents, so he decided to get a better look at the extent of his injuries once he was in the bathroom. He left them alone to commence whispering again as he headed towards the connected bathroom.

He gave the door behind him a gentle closing push as he turned to the nearest mirror. His face only had a few burns marks and scratches. There was a burn mark that went from right underneath his right ear and headed towards his nose and another one coming out of the corner of his mouth and heading towards his left jawline. He had a thin scratch right above his left eyebrow and some smaller ones scattered about his face, but there was nothing terribly big or offsetting about his face. Those would all heal with time. They were not nearly as bad as Dean knew burns could be.

Slowly, he pulled of the hospital gown they had put in him, which he thought was really creepy. _Who strips a person down just to dress them in oversized grandma dresses? Hospital people are weird._

He had looked at himself earlier that morning before he went to school, and there he was again, checking his appearance in a mirror, this time for different reasons. He was not in bad shape considering the conditions. The largest scar he had ran across his chest, but even that one was not that large. The weirdest scar he had was definitely the one on his shoulder.

There was this strange pinkish _handprint_ marking on his shoulder. _What in the actual hell is that?_ He glared at his reflection in the mirror, as if demanding that his reflection explain itself. _How did that even get there? And what does that even mean?_

It would appear that Dean's trip to the bathroom only left him with more questions than it did answers, which made him want to moan in frustration. _I didn't ask for any of this. Why can't things just be normal?_

It was at this moment that he remembered that he had intended to go and see Lisa. _Hopefully she can clarify things._ He slid back into his unfashionable with gown with blue polka dots before leaving the bathroom.

Mary and John both ceased whatever conversation they were having when he reentered the room and looked up at him expectantly.

"I'm… uh… going to go see Lisa." Dean explained as he began to creep towards the door that led to the hallway.

Mary nodded. "She's in room 432." She supplied the number kindly. She knew why Dean wanted to see her. Perhaps she did not know the specifics, but she knew that Dean would want some answers, and she assumed that he wanted to check on her too.

"Thanks." Dean muttered out his thanks before practically dashing for the door. He knew that his parents would just continue on with whatever conversation they were having, so he might as well give them privacy and get answers at the same time.

He wandered down the long, bustling hallways of the hospital, receiving a few smiles as he went along. It turned out that Lisa's room was not too far from his own. It was only a few twists and turns of the spiraling hallways before Dean ended up at the hospital room 432.

He stood outside the door for a moment, wondering if he really wanted to go in. Sure, he wanted answers, but he also felt like it was a waste of time. His mother had said that Lisa thought Dean carried her out, so she was probably just another source to go against what he thought had occurred. Eventually, he decided that he might as well try and gave the door a hesitant knock.

He was greeted by the soft sound of Lisa's voice. It sounded much different when she was not screaming for help. She sounded quieter and calmer, which made sense considering the conditions upon which he had last heard her speak. "Who is it?" She cautiously inquired.

"It's Dean." He responded without any hesitation.

"Come in." Was the immediate response that he got.

He pried the door open to see Lisa sitting up her hospital bed in the same ugly hospital gown as he had on. She didn't seem too bad off. All of her injuries were very minor, but she did appear much paler than before. Her previously warm tan complexion was worn down to a pasty white as she sat in that hospital bed staring up at Dean with large brown eyes. "I was wondering when you'd come." She sounded relieved and almost flirtatious as she spoke.

Dean gave her a wide grin in response. "I couldn't really keep away, could I?" He flirted back naturally. That was not what he came for, and he knew it. It was just his instinct.

She smiled softly in response. "I don't mind." She bit her lower lip playfully as she glanced up Dean with sparkling eyes.

"I don't either." He replied with an automatic wink. "But I actually came to talk to you about what happened." He reminded himself and the girl in front of him of his real reason for being there.

She nodded her head slowly. "I knew you wanted something like that. I do have to thank you though." When Dean did not seem to understand what she was trying to say, she clarified with "for saving me."

"Right. About that…" Dean began as if he was explaining some sort of lie he had been telling. "I don't think I did. Don't you remember? There was this man who carried us out. I passed out inside." _And I thought you did too…_ He did not want to accuse her out loud. Perhaps she had woken up. That seemed like a logical explanation.

Lisa looked at him like he had grown a second head. "I remember. You carried me out and placed me by the tree." She reminded him slowly as if she were talking to a child. "You passed out when we were at the tree. There was no man there."

Dean closed his eyes for a minute. _Maybe he's not real then. Maybe I just imagined it. But still… It doesn't seem right. It just doesn't sit well with me._ "Right. You're right. Of course. I think my mind was just messing with me for a bit. It must have been the smoke." He agreed with her. Arguing was not going to get him anywhere. Lisa seemed certain about what she had seen and telling her otherwise would just make her think he was insane.

"Are you okay? You seem… off." She commented with a common courtesy sense of concern in her tone.

"Yeah. It's just the smoke. I just need some sleep is all." He replied with a shrug, pretending like the total rejection of the man he saw was not beginning to gnaw away at the back of his mind.

She gave him a hesitant, non believing nod. "Go get some sleep then, and thanks again for saving me."

"It was nothing." He spoke the truth as he headed towards the door. He really did not remember saving her, and that meant that it probably was nothing. He went out the door without another word, his mind brewing with frustration.

He was so focused on his internal dilemma that he did not notice the roof cave in above him. He felt a body crash onto him as he flew across the hallway in a flash. He landed about ten feet away from the site of the cave in and found himself staring at the sudden crashing of the building in disbelief.

There was a repair guy amongst the pile of rubble and he had a running chainsaw in hand. He seemed confused as he looked around, not understanding that he had broken through the hospital roof. They were on the top floor after all.

People rushed in to repair the mess, but all Dean could do was stare at the spot he had previously been in. If he had still been there, he would have been crushed by the roof and then cut by the chainsaw. He would have surely been dead if it hadn't been for… _Who was that that saved me anyway?_

He turned his gaze up to the man who had just saved his life to see that it was the same man from before. His oversized trench coat was covered in rubble and his hair was even more disheveled. His eyes were no longer glowing, but that did not stop them from being captivating. They were a bright, shimmering blue that were now staring widely at Dean.

The man was so close to Dean that he could just feel his warmth, and he had to admit it felt good for some reason. It was not like cuddling with a love interest. It was like being close to his mother. It felt safe and secure.

The blue eyed man heaved himself onto his feet and backed away again. He seemed to curse himself under his breath once he was able to make out what just happened.

"It's you." Dean would have shouted, but his breath had been taken away from the sudden impact of the man's body.

The man shook his head in disbelief as he looked down at Dean and then at the other people who were mostly too distracted by the rubble to pay him any attention. "My apologies, Dean. It would appear that I've aggravated them…" The blue eyed man looked upwards as he spoke.

"What? Aggravated who? How do you know my name? Who are you?" Dean blurted out random questions frantically in a desperate hope that he could get the answers he had left his room in search of.

The man took a deep breath. "It is not my job to answer the questions of humans." He replied steadily. "I shouldn't even be here." He muttered before vanishing in a sudden flutter of what sounded almost like… _wings_?

"Wait! You don't get to leave until you've answered my questions!" Dean yelled at the empty space across from him. Just as soon as he had come, the mysterious man was gone again, and he only left Dean with more questions rather than answers.

He leaned his head back against the wall. "When did I sign up for this?" He groaned.

It took him a few moments, but eventually he collected himself enough to leave and stood up to do so when something caught his eye.

There was a lone black feather in place of the blue eyed man. It was large feather unlike any Dean had ever seen before, and upon picking it up he found that it was softer than any feather he had felt before too. _What is this? I don't think it was here before…_

Dean mentally groaned. _Great. More questions with no answers._ He sighed as he pocketed the feather, which would be impossible for normal pants pockets, but luckily enough the fashion disaster of a gown had extremely large pockets that could allow one to smuggle in a puppy. Dean went back to his hospital room with less clarity than when he left, his mind racing with thoughts of the blue eyed man.


	3. The Eternal Empty Hallway

"What were you thinking?!" A golden haired man shouted at the blue eyed man, who simply looked down at the man scolding him with a steady gaze. "You let him see you?! You of all of us should know how that turns out, Castiel!" The golden haired man shouted.

The blue eyed man - Castiel - kept his gaze solidly fixed on the shorter man as he spoke. "I am aware." There was an edge to his tone at first, but that edge began to wear down as he continued. "But I did not have much of a choice, Gabriel. He would have died. It was not his time yet. I did what I had to, but I am nearly entirely sure that it was not necessary in the hospital." His eyes narrowed accusingly at the other man, Gabriel.

Gabriel held up his hands defensively. "It wasn't me, Cassie. Those orders came from higher up." A look of pure fear overtook Castiel's features, which caused Gabriel to shake his head dismissively. "Not that high up, Cassie, but high up enough to be of concern. They were testing you to see if you'd show again, and I think you know that at this point."

"I am aware, but I still do not agree. It was necessary to save him-" Castiel began to explain himself in his unwavering tone, but he was interrupted by Gabriel's silencing hand motion.

"But it's against the rules, and you know that. He _saw_ you, Cassie, and that's making a big ruckus upstairs. This was your second chance, kiddo, and I just don't want that to be over for you." Gabriel sighed as he leaned up against a wall.

"I… understand, and I appreciate your concern, Gabe, but I am not sure how to mend it." Castiel replied in a slightly softer tone.

"Easy. You've got to erase his memories, so he doesn't remember what he's seen. I'm sure I can convince them to give you another shot if you clean this mess up before news travels any further." Gabriel responded as if the notion would be effortless. Convincing the stuck up snobs that passed as heaven's highest would be nearly impossible, but Gabriel was more than willing to do it if it meant helping Castiel.

Castiel fell silent at the suggestion, which was closer to an order than a suggestion. Gabriel was his older brother, and he was higher up in the ranks, but that did not make Gabriel treat him as if he were any lower. Gabriel phrased it like a demand, but Castiel knew he was just trying to help. It did not change the fact that he would have to mess with someone's memories, which he personally hated doing. His eyebrows furrowed in thought as he tossed the idea around in his head.

Gabriel turned to leave, a strangely nostalgic and sympathetic look on his face. "It's for the best, Cassie. That's all I want." He whispered before he vanished from sight.

Castiel knew what that meant. If Gabriel said that wiping his memories would be for the best, then it must be. Gabriel did not lie about situations that serious. He enjoyed pranks, but nothing to that extent. He sighed. He knew what he had to do.

Dean went back to his hospital room after his mind blowing encounter. His mind was filled with questions and thoughts about the mysterious man as he entered his room to find that the only person left inside was Sam, who had woken up and had buried his face into a rather large book that Dean immediately deemed boring.

"Heya Sam." He muttered, his voice slightly unsteady from his previous encounter. "You're awake, huh? Where are Mom and Dad?"

Sam looked up from his book, and his eyes seemed to shimmer with relief as he stared at Dean in a momentary silence. He delicately shut his book and placed it in the chair next to his and went over to Dean to envelope him in a small hug. "I-I heard about the fire… My teacher told me, and these kids… they kept telling me you were dead…" Sam's eyes began to fill with tears as he hugged his older brother. "When I got here you were still asleep, and… I thought…" Sam choked as he forced back his tears. "Mom told me to sleep, and I fell asleep, but when I woke up you were gone and Mom and Dad had to go talk to a nurse about… getting you out of the hospital… and I thought they wanted to send you...… you were out… I thought you were…" Sam choked as he tried to suppress his tears from spilling. "I thought…" Sam trailed off as he pulled away from Dean, shaking his head to try and dismiss the thoughts of Dean's body being taken from the hospital.

"I'm fine, Sammy." Dean assured his little brother as he motioned to his nearly fully functioning body as proof. "I got out pretty lucky." He did not want to begin to explain why he had been so fortunate because even he did not comprehend the answer himself. He knew he owed his life to that man in the trench coat, which made him feel grudgingly indebted, but he had no idea who that man even was.

Sam nodded in response. He could see that Dean was faring better than he had been led to believe, and he was immensely grateful for that, but the shock of having his brother, whom he had feared was dead, casually strut into the room was a little bit overwhelming.

"Mom and Dad are talking to a nurse then?" Dean asked in a gentle tone, knowing that Sam would probably take a few minutes to get his head straight again.

"Yeah." Sam whispered in response as his head bobbled again in affirmation.

"Alright. I guess it's just you and me then." Dean replied as he moved towards his bed. His back was beginning to ache from the impact of the wall after that roof caved in. That was strange though. Hospital roofs were supposed to be stable. That roof seemed to collapse without any warning, and it had nearly killed him. _It's almost as if something is out to get me._

Sam looked Dean up and down in concern, checking to see how bad the damage was. He seemed relieved by the mildness of the injuries, but his eyes did not stop scanning Dean out of nervousness. That was, until they came upon the feather that was slightly jutting out of Dean's pocket. "What's that?" He asked inquisitively.

"N-nothing." Dean's hand immediately went to push the feather further into his pocket, so that Sam could no longer see it. An instinct told him that Sam should not know about the feather or the man.

"Then why are you hiding it? Come on, let me see." Sam argued as he held a hand out, waiting for Dean to relinquish the feather.

"It's just something I found, okay? It's none of your business." He snapped, which he did not usually do unless he was provoked.

Sam's mouth distorted into a slightly apparent frown. "Why? What's so secret about a feather?" He asked, confusion lining his tone.

"Nothing. That's why it wouldn't interest you." Dean retorted.

"Then why are you hiding it?" Sam asked with a smug lift of his eyebrow.

"I'm not. You're just being nosey, and it's annoying." Dean rolled his eyes as he spoke, trying to prove that was the only reason that he was hiding the feather.

"Only because you're being sneaky." Sam muttered in response.

Dean grunted as he flopped himself onto his bed. "Right. We'll go with that." He murmured half to himself.

There was a knock at the door before Sam had the chance to respond. Both boys turned their attention to the source of the sound.

"Yeah?" Dean asked lazily, only slightly propping himself up in his bed to see whoever was knocking.

The door creaked open, revealing Mary looking in with a warm smile and John not too far behind her. "Hey, sweetie. The nurse was just filling us in. She says you should rest now, so that you can get home sooner." Mary spoke softly and sweetly as she leaned in the doorway.

"Yeah. I guess that makes sense." Dean muttered his agreement. His mind was still locked on the prior events at the fire and in the hallway.

"Come on, Sam, let's leave your brother to get some rest." Mary verbally nudged Sam out of the room.

"But he just got here." Sam protested in a voice that bordered whiny.

"Sam, Dean needs to heal. It's for his good." Mary insisted with a slight increase in force.

Sam turned a sad gaze towards Dean, mentally debating on whether or not he was ready to leave him just then.

"John." Mary turned around as she nudged John to take action.

John fumbled for a moment out of surprise. "Uh. Listen to your mother." He had clearly not been paying attention.

"Come on, Sam. He needs rest. You can see him later." Mary urged, trying to ignore the fact that John had an apparent complete disregard for the situation.

Sam gave her a weak nod as he got up from his seat to head towards the door. "Get better soon." He muttered in Dean's direction on his way out.

"Thanks, Sammy. I'll certainly try." Dean joked with a semi-grin.

Mary smiled at him before she ushered Sam out of the room and shut the door behind her.

That left Dean alone. He was alone with his thoughts and his family's select few items - his dad's briefcase, his mother's purse, and Sam's backpack. His thoughts were by far the most troubling of the items in the room, more troublesome than any of his actual injuries. Thoughts of the blue eyed man swarmed his mind. Questions kept buzzing through. _Who is he? Why did he save me? What was he talking about? Why is he interested in me? How does he know me anyway?_ Dean groaned. That man had vanished and left him with too many unanswered questions. Well, vanished was a strong word. He told himself that it must have been a hallucination from the impact of the wall because people did not simply vanish. The feather was weird, but he supposed the man must have some sort of bird - although the feather was like none other bird feather he had ever seen.

Dean's eyes drifted towards Sam's bag. Sam was a big dork, and he always had multiple giant books and school supplies in his bag, but most importantly, he always had his laptop. _Maybe… I can find answers… it will only take a second._ Whatever he could find would be better than nothing, so he decided that he might as well give it a shot.

About an hour of research left Dean little more than empty handed. The feather had no matches to any kind of feathers of any kind of birds. The feather did not have the same rough texture of any feathers in the archive - Instead, it was soft and fluffy. It was dissimilar in its size as well. It did not match up to the measurements of the other feathers. Dean fiddled with the feather in his pocket. _What is this anyway? What the heck kind of bird did this come from?_ He continued scrolling down the different sites that all had various theories as to of what the feather was. A lot claimed that there had been few feathers like it found, and that they must be some kind of hidden species. That was, until he came across a site that claimed that it must be an angel feather.

Dean had to steady himself as fits of laughter racked his body. _Angel? What was that guy on?_ He shook his head, grin still plastered on his face. Half of him told him that he should just keep scrolling. The other half told him to click on the link. _Why not? It should be amusing._ He clicked on the link without much thought as he began scrolling through it, small chuckles occasionally slipping from his lips. _Sometimes the ridiculous stuff people come up with is amusing, but other times it's just plain stupid. I can't decide which this is. Maybe it's both._ The content was completely obscure. It talked about angels living disguised as humans and plotting to take over the world. The guy was completely insane, and he found it to be funny but also kind of scary. He just hoped that guy was trolling or high.

He cleared his search history before closing the laptop. Obviously, that was not going anywhere. He slipped the laptop back into Sam's bag and put it back on the chair that Sam had previously been sitting in.

 _Whatever. I'll just ignore it. Whatever happened is over, so maybe I should just forget about it._ He laid himself out on his bed, his hands resting on the back of his head as his gaze vaguely focused on the hospital ceiling. He began to drift off into sleep, his questions still unanswered.

Dean opened his eyes to find himself back in the hospital hallway. The difference being that it was entirely empty. It was just a plain white hallway that seemed never ending, but then it became two hallways, and then three, and so on and so forth until it became a labyrinth of empty hallways that seemed to have no end. He tried to find his way around, but he only seemed to get himself more lost in the eternal maze that his mind had created. He flopped himself down, deciding that he was not getting anywhere and caught his breath.

His eye was caught by a small wave of a trench coat in a distance just around the corner. "Hey!" He called as he jumped onto his feet. "Hey!" He shouted again as he took off in the direction that the man had gone. He went around the corner to find nothing there, only more empty hallway. "Come back!" He shouted at the vacant space surrounding him. He could feel eyes at the back of his head, so he spun around to find that same pair of sky blue eyes gazing at him as if they could his soul.

They stood there for a moment, just staring into eachother's eyes as if reading an intense book. Dean forget all about his questions as he stared into the man's captivating blue eyes. He forgot about what had happened. He forgot that he was dreaming. He forgot everything; it was all lost in the depths of his blue eyes, drowning in the vast oceans of blue, but then they vanished along with the man they belonged to. The mysterious man had abandoned Dean yet again, causing him to wake up with a start, only to be met with the same blue gaze staring intently at him while seated in his hospital room by his bedside.

Dean gaped at the man and pinched himself. He was awake; it was not a dream. The man was there, and he was watching him, which brought about the questions of why and how long, but those words could not find their way to Dean's mouth. There was no sound in the room for a few moments, until the stranger with the trench coat spoke.

"Hello, Dean."


	4. Chapter 4

Dean's eyes widened as he saw the blue eyed man sitting beside his bed, staring at him intently. The way he looked at him was strange. The man had a look of sympathy on his face that was undeniable, but underneath that was a layer of something deeper; there was some kind of hidden experience in that gaze, and it only confused Dean further.

"You…" Dean began, his voice ebbing with shock and apprehension. "Who are you?" He demanded.

The man regarded him with shining blue eyes that gazed right through his eyes as if reading his soul. "My name is Castiel. I am an angel of the Lord." He deadpanned. He was in Dean's room for a reason, and that was to wipe his memories. He might as well answer his questions before Dean forgot about him entirely.

Dean's face scrunched up as if he had tasted something extremely sour. "You're insane. There's no such thing."

Castiel cocked his head to the side as his eyes narrowed in confusion. "I am right here, Dean. I am not 'insane', nor do I see why you would call me such a harsh word. I have not done anything that would suggest that I am mentally imbalanced."

Dean's eyes widened in disbelief. "You said you're a friggin angel! That's impossible! You're nuts, dude, and… that's another thing: how do you know my name?" He was starting to become wary of the man who knew about him and claimed to be an angel. The last thing he wanted was a crazed stalker.

"It is perfectly possible, Dean, and I am not nuts… I do not know why I would look like food to you, but I can assure you that I am not. I am an angel - your guardian angel to be exact." Castiel finished with his eyes locked onto Dean's, still intently searching for something.

Dean backed away in his bed, edging himself against the wall behind him. "No way. You're out of your mind; that's what you are. You're just a creep who's been following me."

"It is quite rude of you to speak to me in such a way, Dean. Need I remind you what I am? I saved you, more times than you can count, which I doubt is many anyways." The 'angel' stood up as if to do something, but he remained in place momentarily.

"Get out of my room, or I'll call the nurse, and stop following me. Sure, you saved me a few times, but that doesn't change the fact that you're stalking me." Dean growled as his eyes darted towards the call button.

"That is my job in a sense, and your opinion on the matter is not taken into regards. I have saved you more times than you know, but…" Castiel glanced around the room to see if anyone was watching, almost as if he were afraid someone would jump out and get him. "I can show you." He whispered very quietly, almost to himself.

Without much time to respond, the room was filled with a bright light, which caused Dean to shield his eyes. Luckily, he was still able to see what was occurring in front of him, and part of him wished he could not because what he saw proved everything he previously thought to be a lie. Castiel was surrounded by a bright, white light and his eyes glowed, but the most drastic part was the rise of black wings behind his back, or what appeared to be shadows of wings.

In a flash, they disappeared, leaving the seemingly normal looking man in the trench coat looking expectantly at Dean.

"W-what…?" Dean rubbed his eyes as he stared at the blue eyed man. "They must have drugged me up on pain meds because this is the weirdest thing I've ever hallucinated." He let out a small, forced laugh.

"I am real, Dean, and I take offense that you think otherwise." Castiel responded, his features still entirety neutral.

"Right. You're my guardian angel. I'm supposed to believe that. Then where the heck have you been the rest of my life?" Dean retorted sarcastically.

"Here. With you. I have been invisibly by your side since the day you were born, watching over you. I would change the colors of stop lights when you were in the road when you should not have been. I would deflect a large bouncy ball from hitting your head too hard. I would move books out of the way to prevent you from tripping. It is my job, Dean. Only, I was never supposed to show myself." Castiel answered very seriously.

"So you've been stalking me all along." Dean noted. If he was hallucinating, he might as well make the best of it. It would be over soon. He hoped. "Why now then? Why wait to show yourself til now?"

"It was an accident." Castiel muttered as if he were embarrassed. "If I have to touch you to save you from a danger, then I have to manifest in a physical form, and that led to you seeing me, which is against the rules."

"Why is that against the rules? Is it like a stalker's code or something?" Dean half grinned at his joke.

Castiel narrowed his eyes in confusion momentarily, but continued anyway. "Humans do not often use the information wisely. They… abuse it, or they are abused by it. Either way, the rules have been established, and I am meant to follow them."

"Uh… okay." Dean hesitantly accepted the vague answer. "But I've already seen you." He pointed out bluntly.

"Yes. I know." Castiel's eyes fell to the floor. He did not want to have to erase Dean's memories, but he knew he would have to. He could not let him know. There was no other option. He had messed up, and it was his job to fix that.

"So you messed up, huh? Is there like a time out corner for you or something?" Dean joked, but there seemed to be some genuine understanding behind his words.

Castiel tilted his head to the side again. "I do not understand, Dean, why-"

"Just… forget I said that." Dean cut him off with a sharp motion of his hand. "I just wanted to know if there are, you know, consequences."

"I could be cast out of heaven and stripped of my wings." Castiel answered without a moment's hesitation.

"Ouch. That sounds painful." Dean winced in sympathy.

"It would be, yes, which is why I am sorry…" The way that Castiel looked at Dean when he said it made it seem real too. It was genuine, and anyone could tell just from the glimmer in his eyes. Castiel moved towards Dean and reached a hand out, placing two delicate fingers on Dean's forehead.

Dean passed out momentarily, leaving Castiel to silently watch him. He did what he had to do, even if it hurt. Dean would be better off forgetting him, but some part of him did not want the green eyed boy to forget him. There was some selfish part of him that wanted to get to know the boy he saved, and he wanted the boy to know him too. He wanted to mean something to him, but he could not if he only lived in the shadows, but that was his life, and that was what he was called to do.

Dean woke up to find himself in his hospital bed with a foggy mind. He could not remember what had happened at all. The last thing he remembered was talking to Sam and then going to sleep. _Must have been a weird dream or something._ He decided.

"Good morning, Dean." Mary greeted Dean with bright smile as she sat by his bedside reading a magazine.

" 'morning, Mom." Dean mumbled as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.

"How are you feeling?" She asked very lightly.

"I'm good. I feel a lot better." He responded without much thought.

"I'm so glad to hear that." Mary beamed as she closed her magazine. "Dad will be too."

"Where is he?" Dean asked as he scanned the room for signs of John, but the only other person present was Sam, who was intently reading his book in the corner.

"He had to go to work, Dear, but I'm sure he'll stop by later." Mary gently defended her husband. "Now," She stood up to leave, almost as if avoiding the topic. "I'll go get you something to eat." She left the room with a smile on her face, leaving Sam and Dean alone together.

Sam shut his book as soon as Mary was gone and turned his gaze up towards Dean. "Are you actually okay? I heard talking in your room last night after Mom told me to leave."

Dean raised an inquisitive eyebrow. "Maybe the nurse came in. I don't know, Sammy. I went to sleep pretty soon after you left."

Sam did not seem to believe him. "What's going on with you, Dean? Mom says you claim a man saved you from the fire, you have a weird feather that you refuse to let me see, and then you are talking to people instead of sleeping. Just tell me. I'm your brother. You shouldn't keep things from me." Sam's face was a mixture of concern and hurt by the time he finished speaking.

"Man? No one saved me from the fire. I saved myself." Dean told the story as he now remembered it. "And… what feather?"

"The one in your pocket! Dean, something's going on! I'm not that stupid." Sam exclaimed.

Dean reached into his pocket, and his fingers found the feathers. He pulled it out and held the feather in his hand, and suddenly he felt a memory surge through him.

The man was standing over him after laying him down by the tree. He remembered his blue eyes staring intently down at him. He recalled the way the trenchcoated man held his hand out as if to touch him. He remembered there being some bright light encompassing the man. That was not how he remembered it happening. That was… something new. "A… man saved me from the fire?" Dean turned the topic back around as he twirled the feather in his hands, staring at it as if it were the most fascinating of all things.

"That's what you said. Why?" Sam's face scrunched in confusion.

Dean pocketed the feather again. "I'm fine, Sam. I've had some hallucinations, but I'm just trying to make out what part of them was real." It was only half a lie. He did not remember anything to do with the blue eyed man, but now he did. Now he had one memory, and something about that memory screamed that it was real, and maybe it was. Dean could not be sure. He was not sure what to believe, but he knew he had to find out.

"Alright, but let me know if I can help." Sam accepted that as an answer and continued reading his book.

"Can do. Thanks, Sammy." Dean responded absently, his fingers in his pocket tracing over the outline of the feather. He wanted to figure it out. There was no way that the image the feather triggered was random, and he intended to figure out what it meant and who that man was. One thing was for sure, Sam was right; there was definitely something going on, and Dean was going to get to the bottom of it.


	5. Two Promises

It was not even two hours later when Dean's friends came to visit him. They entered the room with an incessant chatter, but Dean hardly noticed. His mind was locked on the man with the captivating blue eyes. He wanted to know who the man was of course and why he could not remember much of him, but the real problem was that he just _wanted_ the man. He wanted him to be there with him. For some reason, he could not get the man off his mind, and it was beginning to irritate him. He needed to find out who he was.

His hand went instinctively into the pocket with the feather as he traced his fingers around it while Charlie happily ranted about a date she had the other night.

"Hey… Kev," Dean broke Charlie's rant, who looked up at him with confusion smeared onto her features. "How much do you know about feathers?" Dean asked bluntly.

Charlie sputtered as she looked from Kevin to Dean. "Uhm… Dean? Did you hit your head too hard or something?" She joked with an undertone of concern.

"Yeah. Are you feeling okay, brother?" Benny piped in from his neutral spot leaning against the wall near the chairs.

"This is weird, even for you." Jo grunted in agreement.

"It's a… vague topic." Kevin forced out, his voice outlining the confusion and concern they all felt. "But I guess I know some things?"

Dean only nodded, practically ignoring everyone else's comments. "What can you tell me about this one?" He asked in a serious tone as he pulled out the soft, large feather from his pocket, only to have the crowd of teenagers in his room swoop in to get a better look.

"It came from a bird." Jo mocked him with a small roll of her eyes. "What does it matter?"

"It's so pretty! It looks magical!" Charlie chimed, her eyes wide with excitement.

Kevin gave the feather a scrutinizing glare. "It's not like one I've seen before. I can look into it. Can I see it?" He asked as he pulled out his laptop.

Something in Dean made him not want to relinquish the feather. Some part of him desperately wanted to cling onto it, but he told himself he'd have to let it go if he wanted answers. Reluctantly, he released the feather into Kevin's hands.

Kevin busied himself typing and examining the feather while the others carried on.

"Where did you get that?" Charlie asked with an almost childlike wonder that was mixed with a hint of skepticism.

"I'm not sure. I think I'm having some memory lapses." Dean muttered, feeling almost embarrassed.

Charlie's eyes widened as she hit Dean lightly on the shoulder. "You should have told us sooner, jerk." Even as she hit him, a smile was finding its way onto her face.

"She's right. We're here to help." Benny pitched in.

"Sorry." Dean grinned apologetically as he rubbed the back of his neck. "I've just been trying to figure things out, you know?"

"You mean figure out why you have an angel feather." Kevin deadpanned from his spot in the room, looking as if he had witnessed a murder.

The room was filled with laughter. The only people who did not laugh were Benny, who rarely laughed unless it was truly funny, and Kevin, who seemed to be quite serious.

"I didn't think you knew how to joke, Kevin." Jo said between laughs.

"It's not a joke." He replied, his face and tone implying he was gravely serious.

"What do you mean, Kevin?" Dean warily asked. "You telling me I've seen an angel?"

"Yes, and I don't think they like being seen." Kevin sounded small and scared as he stared at his glowing screen in his lap.

"Angels?! Like magical angels?!" Charlie nearly started jumping up and down she was so excited, her face lighting up like a child at a candy store.

"There's no such thing." Dean dismissed it with a nervous laugh.

"There is, Dean. I know real info when I see it. Just… avoid the angel at all costs." Kevin warned.

"Why?" Dean could not help but wonder. The man in the trench coat must have been the angel, and that meant that the angel saved him, so the angel obviously did not want to hurt him. That was assuming it was an angel. Angels were not real. Dean knew that.

"They don't let humans see them." Kevin explained, eyeing Dean as if he were about to explode.

"Well maybe because they're not real." Dean snapped. "This is just insane. Give me back the feather." Dean opened his palm for the feather, which Kevin cautiously placed back in.

As soon as it was back in his hand, Dean felt memories flood from the feather and back into him. He remembered what Cas had told him and how he had saved him. He remembered it all, and he was frustrated and upset that his guardian angel did not want him to know he existed.

"I've got to go." Dean said as he abruptly got out of his bed and walked towards the door.

All of the teenagers in the room looked after him with concern on their faces, but it was Charlie who came running after him.

"Dean!" She called as she ran up to her friend who was determinedly walking towards the staircase that led to the hospital roof.

Dean stopped in his tracks as soon as he heard Charlie call his name. "Yeah Charles?" He asked softly.

"Tell me what's going on." Charlie demanded.

"I will when I know." Dean responded with conviction.

Charlie hesitated for a moment, concern etching its way onto her features. "Pinky promise?" She whispered as she held out her hand with her pinky extended.

A soft smile crept it's way onto Dean's face at the sight of the familiar gesture. "Pinky promise." He whispered back as he too held his hand out and grabbed Charlie's pinky with his to give it a small squeeze.

Charlie returned his smile before she went back off in the direction of Dean's hospital room, leaving Dean to make his way onto the roof.

The roof was vacant but cool as the fresh breeze drifted over the top of the building, the wind working its way through Dean's short hair.

Dean shut the door that led back to the beehive of a hospital below. No one could follow him. He knew he would have to do this alone.

"Alright, come on out." Dean grunted at the empty rooftop, nothing moving except his ugly hospital gown which flapped in the breeze.

Dean was met with only a gust of wind as an answer. "I know you're there, so just show yourself!" He shouted at the empty space in front of him that stretched out into a whole city lying beneath his feet, cars rushing to and fro below.

There was another gust, but this time, the trenchcoated man appeared with a concerned but curious look on his face, his eyebrows knitted together in concentration at deciphering the situation. "Hello, Dean." He very simply greeted.

"Yeah skip that." Dean dismissed immediately with a hand wave. "Start with why you wiped my memory." Dean demanded aggressively despite lacking a weapon with which to threaten the alleged angel.

The blue eyed man cocked his head to the side in a curious manner. "It had to be done, Dean. The important question is: how did you remember me?" The man's eyes squinted farther in confusion to a point where Dean was almost certain they were closed. He was certain that he had properly wiped Dean's memories. He should not be able to remember him at all. "What do you remember?"

"Everything. You saved me… a few times, and that cruddy explanation you gave me in the hospital room before trying to override my memories like I'm some robot, so if you don't mind, I'd like some answers." Dean growled, his own eyebrows closing in due to anger.

"Interesting." Castiel observed, his eyes opening a fraction. "But that could be disastrous." He whispered to himself despite the fact that Dean could still hear him.

"Wait. Why is it disastrous?" Dean recoiled a bit, edging himself away from the angel.

"I told you. Humans cannot see angels, and it would appear that you refuse to forget me. It would appear that I will be in trouble with heaven." Castiel informed him with a relatively steady voice. The only thing that betrayed his stoic appearance was the fact that his eyes had widened ever so slightly instead of their usual squint.

"Right. I remember that." Dean thought back to the conversation, remembering what Castiel had said the punishment for letting a human see an angel. "You… lose your wings?" Dean asked, his own voice showing fear. Sure, Castiel had kept secrets from him, and he probably still was, but he had been his guardian angel his whole life, and he had saved his life on various occasions, and he also found the man to be quite beautiful in a sense. It was the way he held himself. Yes, his eyes were captivating and alluring, and sure, Dean kind of liked the way he squinted his eyes, but it was the high and mighty glow that had a nurturing touch to it that sent shivers down his spine. For whatever the reason, Dean felt guilty for putting Castiel in that situation.

Castiel flinched at the mention of losing his wings. "I… can't… I don't want… Dean…" His eyes were wide and desperate like an animal caught in a cage.

"Well… I could pretend to forget you?" Dean offered rather bluntly. He never wanted to forget the strange man, which was a strange feeling to have, but he attributed it to the fact that the man was mysterious.

The angel snapped his head up in immediate hope. "It's a stupid idea, and it would never work…" He muttered. "But it might keep the higher authority off my tail for a while. It can buy me time." He rambled to himself while Dean watched him curiously.

"Dean," He said the human's name with conviction. "I will go along with your plan, but you must tell no one. I will still watch over you, but you must pretend as if nothing is different. Promise me you won't tell a soul." He spoke very gravely in his low husky voice.

"I promise." Dean quickly agreed. He was known for keeping promises, but he had forgotten about the one that he had made to Charlie. "But… is there any way you could make yourself visible to me? I mean, it's good to have you looking out for me, but it's kind of creepy if I can't see you." Dean half lied. It was creepy, but he also secretly enjoyed Castiel's company and… staring at him, but that was totally just because of the angelic business, _nothing_ else.

Castiel thought for a moment before giving him a brief nod. "Very well, but I am not a pet." He warned with an overly serious glare.

"Pet angel? Sounds like a sitcom to me." Dean huffed a laugh, only to have Castiel tilt his head and squint his eyes yet again.

"Seriously? Have you never seen TV?" Dean asked incredulously.

"I've never had occasion." Castiel replied, still thoroughly confused.

"Well let me tell you, it's probably the greatest thing humans have ever done. I mean, some shows are great, others are garbage. You win some, you lose some." Dean babbled while Castiel listened intently, occasionally making comments about how certain TV shows Dean described seemed unrealistic or historically inaccurate, but that did not stop him from listening to the human's rant with a small forming smile. He liked hearing him talk about things he liked. Dean had a certain light in his eyes that came through when he talked about his passions. He loved seeing the way Dean's face moved upwards as he talked happily and the childish smile on his face. He had watched Dean for years, and he never tired of it. He had grown so attached to the boy even without him knowing, but now he knew him. Now they could know each other.

"I know he remembers you, Castiel. You wouldn't be smiling otherwise." Gabriel casually commented upon Castiel's return to heaven.

Castiel seemed stunned for a moment and almost afraid, but he relaxed as he remembered that Gabriel would not harm him. He was his closest brother after all. "Yes. He refuses to forget me."

"Maybe because you refuse to let him." Gabriel replied coolly.

"I would do no such thing." Castiel insisted with doubt beginning to creep into his tone.

"I know. You wouldn't intentionally. All I'm saying is, I know how much Dean means to you. You've taken care of him for so long now, and I don't want you to lose that, but I also don't want you to lose something that makes you so happy." Gabriel's eyes became foggy with some indescribable emotion.

"What are you implying, Gabe?" Castiel cautiously asked.

"I'm saying, that I will keep word from reaching the higher ups. I want you to have this, Cassie, and I won't let them get in the way of that." Gabriel decided as determination filled his facial features.

Castiel did not know what to say, so he stood in his place blinking dumbfounded at Gabriel. "Thank you, Gabe." He finally blurted out with a soft tinge.

"Thank me later. I've got to go make sure I cover your tracks, little bro." Gabriel replied a bit urgently right before vanishing.

Castiel was left staring at the space where Gabriel used to be. He knew that he was lucky to have a brother like Gabriel who took care of him in that way, but he also knew that if Gabriel failed, he could be in serious trouble.

It was worth it. Any trouble that he got into was worth having a connection with Dean Winchester, who he had watched over for years and developed an attachment to but was unable to express said attachment for so long. Dean was the person who taught him emotions as he knew them, but Dean did not know that. Yes, Castiel had saved Dean countless times, but Dean had also saved him from being a mindless soldier, even if Dean did not know. However, Castiel had every intention of showing him how great of a help he had been.


	6. Love

"So only I can see you?" Dean tried to clarify with his guardian angel before re entering his hospital room.

"Yes, Dean. Only you can see and hear me. I'm as invisible to all others just as I used to be to you." The angel blankly responded, his voice almost mechanical.

Dean swallowed hard. The thought of Castiel watching him for years without his knowledge made him uncomfortable. At least he could see him now. "Alright. Just try not to be… too creepy." Dean opened the door before a confused Castiel even had a chance to respond, but he was surprisingly met with an almost empty hospital room.

"Dean!" His mother beamed as soon as she saw him. There were dark circles beginning to form under her eyes, signifying that she must have been lacking sleep due to concern and stress, and yet a genuine smile filled her face as she saw her son enter the room. "Your friends had to go home, sweetie, but they'll be back tomorrow.

"Right. Thanks, Mom." Dean spoke uncomfortably as he eyed Castiel, wary of him listening in.

"How are you feeling, Dean?" Mary gently prodded.

"I'm feeling much better." Dean told her that to put her mind at rest, but really, he did not feel too bad after all.

"You should rest, Dean. I think it would put your mother at ease. She herself needs rest." Castiel observed from his spot behind Dean.

Dean's lip pursed ever so slightly at Castiel's words. "I think I'm going to hit the hay. Maybe you should get some sleep too." Dean tried to force nonchalance as he flopped himself onto his bed.

Mary smiled at the sight out of relief. "That might be a good idea. Just… make sure a nurse gets me if you need anything. I'll only be fifteen minutes." She hesitantly spoke.

"Take as long as you want, Mom. I'm all good here." Dean relaxed himself onto his bed, making it appear as if he were going to sleep.

Mary took one last look at him before giving him a reluctant nod as she headed out the door.

"She will try to wake up and come back to you." Castiel stated without moving his gaze from Dean.

"Yeah. I know that." Dean waved off the Angel's words. "But there's nothing I can do about it."

"I suppose not." Castiel agreed without moving. It almost seemed as if he were not even blinking.

Dean tried to ignore the trenchcoated angel. He really did, but he could not ignore him when he was standing in plain sight standing still as if he were a statue with eyes locked on him. "Okay, what part of don't be creepy did you not understand?" Dean sarcastically told the angel, who simply tilted his head in confusion.

"If you had let me speak earlier, Dean, you would know that I did not understand. How is protecting you 'creepy'?" The squinty eyed angel asked with his head cocked to the left.

"Watching me is. I just can't do anything with you looking at me like that!" Dean protested, clearly feeling like his personal space rights had been violated.

"Would it help if I stared at the wall?" The angel cluelessly asked.

"N- You know what… just… as long as you're not staring at me." Dean grumbled.

Castiel complied, and he turned his hard focused gaze onto a wall as if he were having a staring contest with it.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, but that was all that Dean could take. "You know what, if you're going to be that weird no matter what you're looking at, I don't think I'm going to get any actual sleep around here." Dean mumbled as he sat himself up in his bed.

Castiel only refocused his narrowed gaze on Dean, staring into his eyes intently. "I do not understand what you would like me to do, Dean."

"Just… stop that. How about…" Dean's eyes scanned the room until they fell upon the flat screen TV. "There we go." A bright grin found its way to the corners of his mouth, pulling them upwards into a childish smirk. "You can see for yourself what the magic of TV is like."

"I did not think that the television possessed any magical skills, Dean. As far as I am aware -" Castiel's confused banter was cut of as Dean held up a hand to silence him.

"Just shut up and watch." Dean grumbled as he turned the TV on.

Castiel's eyes widened as he watched the screen light up with various people and things. He stared at the screen as if it _were_ some sort of magic. "It's a magic box." Castiel muttered in amazement.

"Right. Something like that." Dean let out an amused snort. Sure, the guy was weird, but it was kind of funny to watch him. It was kind of… endearing almost in a strange sort of way. _Maybe I could get used to having him around._

The angel was fascinated by the television. He and Dean spent hours sitting there watching various shows, and Dean explained the premise of each one to him in an almost automatic function after a while. The angel was full of questions, and Dean at least found them humorous.

He liked it when the angel inquired about the shows. The angel's blue eyes would squint, and his head would tilt the tiniest bit to the side as he spoke in his gruff, confused voice. It was hilarious, and Dean had to admit that he thought it was wicked cute, but he tried to dismiss that thought.

Yes, Dean was openly bisexual, but that did not mean that being attracted to his _guardian angel_ was okay. That seemed almost wrong, especially because the man looked to be at least a year older than him, if not even more. No matter how much he found himself drawn to the angel, he knew that could not happen, and that was just how it was going to be.

"You should eat, Dean. Humans require sustenance to remain healthy and functioning." Castiel commented upon seeing a commercial advertising Greek yogurt.

"Oh yeah. I'm kinda hungry." Dean admitted. He had honestly not really noticed before. He had been too wrapped up in watching TV and watching Cas watch TV. "I'll ask a nurse to bring up some food." Dean thought out loud as he leaned over and pressed his call button by his bed.

Castiel sat in silence. It was his job to take care of the human boy. Making sure he got the required amount of food, water, and sleep were items on that list. He was more than content to have Dean pay attention to the food rather than to him. It was a necessity, but still… he guilty noted that he enjoyed spending time with Dean, even if they were only watching foolish humans in a box.

The nurse brought up a grilled cheese sandwich and a salad, and Dean immediately went for the sandwich.

Castiel watched him from the distance, his attention dragged from the television as he watched Dean eat with interest.

Dean was gratefully biting into his sandwich when he stopped mid bite. "Dude." He choked out. "You can't just watch me eat. It's creepy."

Castiel did his usual head tilt that Dean had to keep telling himself was not adorable. "But I must make sure you do not choke. I have done this every time you have eaten." The angel stated in a completely neutral tone.

That fact did not seem to make anything more comfortable for Dean. He hastily put down his sandwich and glared up at Cas in bewilderment. "That's really creepy, and I'm not a baby." He sarcastically protested. "I can eat on my own, thanks."

"It is my job to keep you safe." Castiel simply repeated, even if there was another underlying reason.

"Yeah. I get that, but, dude, could you be more weird?" Dean sarcastically retorted.

"I could certainly try." Castiel seriously responded. "If it would make you more comfortable, then I could attempt to become weirder."

Dean face palmed. "You don't get sarcasm, do you?" He muttered as his eyes flew upwards in a 'heaven help me' manner.

"Do not hit yourself, Dean. It is unsafe." Castiel worriedly watched his charge, his face soft with concern. It took a moment for Dean's words to register with him, but once they did, he was able to respond in his usual stoic voice. "I do not know how to 'sarcasm', Dean. I am untrained in that art."

"Right. I can tell." Dean replied with a slightly amused lift of his eyebrow.

"Dean, I-" Castiel did not get to finish that sentence because Dean's cell phone rang, dragging Dean's attention from both Cas and the sandwich.

"Hey, Charles. What's up?" Dean casually spoke into the phone.

"Um, Dean. You promised me answers! So it's your turn to tell me what's up!" The energetic red-headed girl's voice rang through the speaker.

"Oh." Dean's eyes widened as he remembered the promise he made to Charlie and how it directly conflicted with his promise to Castiel.

Castiel's eyes were wide and silencing as he stared at Dean, knowing perfectly well what was going on.

"Well… I…" Dean was caught in a rough place. Charlie was his best friend, and they never kept secrets from each other, but the angel in the room could very well lose his wings, or the look he was giving Dean told him that perhaps he was not afraid of violence. "I haven't figured it out yet, Charles. I just… I'm still having memory gaps." He lied through his teeth. "I will tell you when I get those memories back, okay?"

There was a pause on the other end, and for a moment Dean thought that she had hung up. "You still don't know?" She breathed out, and Dean could just hear the worry in her voice. "Dean, why can't you remember? Are you going to lose other memories too?" She whispered in a voice edged with fear.

Dean nervously gulped. "I don't know. I don't think I'll lose anymore. I think it's just those ones. I'm fine though, Charlie. Don't worry about me."

"Tell me if you remember anything or if things get worse, okay? I'm here for you, Dean." Charlie softly spoke into the phone.

"Okay. Don't be such a sap." Dean softly grinned.

"Shut up." She whispered with a matching grin. "Take care, Dean."

"You too." He whispered back before she had hung up with a click, and he and Castiel were alone again.

"I should be able to tell her." Dean growled at Castiel.

Castiel regarded him with an even face. "You cannot. It's too dangerous."

"She's my best friend." Dean argued.

"She's no different." Castiel simply replied.

"Best friends don't keep secrets from each other." Dean insisted.

"Well maybe they should learn to." Castiel unintentionally snapped back.

"Maybe you should learn to face your angel friends instead of hiding in the shadows." Dean mercilessly retorted.

"It is your stubbornness that has gotten us into this situation in the first place." Castiel reminded him with a small glare.

"Yeah, well you would want answers too, but so does Charlie. I can't just worry her like that." Dean persisted.

"I could wipe her memory of the promise you made." Castiel blankly offered.

"No way. I'm not letting you mess with her head." Dean's face distorted in distaste as he bitterly shook his head.

"Then I suggest you make up a lie to tell her."

"I can't lie to her. She's my friend. I… can't." Dean responded, sounding conflicted.

"Telling her the truth would put not only me and yourself in danger, but it would also put her in danger as well." Castiel casually spoke.

"Fine." Dean growled. "I'll make something up, but I don't like it."

"Most people don't." Castiel responded sympathetically as his eyes drifted upwards.

"Just… go back to watching the TV, so I can eat my sandwich." Dean grunted, and Castiel did what he was told, checking on Dean out of the corner of his eye to make sure that his charge would be all right.

"Heaven's relatively secure for now." Gabriel casually reported to his little brother. "They have no idea, not even one of them, but that's for now. You'll probably be fine as long as you keep your head low and make sure he doesn't tell anyone."

Castiel was silent for a moment, thinking over Dean's argument about telling Charlie. Perhaps he was being selfish about the whole thing, but then again, Dean did not know what would _really_ happen to him if ever anyone less friendly than Gabriel found out.

"What's the matter, little bro?" Gabriel leaned in, half teasing and half concerned. That was a thing Gabriel did sometimes; he would mask serious things under humor and sarcasm, and strangely enough, Castiel had been around Dean enough to note that Dean had made a habit of doing it too.

"Dean has a friend, and he really wants to tell her. I have made him agree not to, but I'm afraid his loyalty might remain with her." Castiel stoically expressed his concern.

Gabriel huffed in frustration. "Jeezum. I knew something would go wrong. Well, the answer's simple." When he got no response other than a few confused blinks, Gabriel continued with a sigh. "You wipe her memory if he does tell her, or you remind Dean how powerful you are." He grinned devilishly. "Put him in his place."

"I can't do that." Castiel immediately responded with no clarification.

"And why not?" Gabriel asked with a curious raise of his eyebrow.

The thing was, they both knew perfectly well why not. It was like a silent agreement. They both just knew, and that was how it was. They had never really spoken about it before, but now Gabriel was pushing the subject.

"Because… I couldn't do that to him." Castiel muttered as if he were embarrassed, his eyes drifting to the floor and refusing to meet Gabriel's gaze.

Gabriel sighed as he leaned backwards. Of course he knew. He just wanted to hear him say it, but whether it was for his own benefit or Castiel's was unknown. "I know, Cassie. You can just say it, you know." He whispered softly and gently, trying to coax him into admitting it.

Castiel closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. "I love him, Gabe. I have ever since I first laid eyes on him, and I've never been able to shake the feeling." He muttered in a frantic tone.

Gabriel's mouth quirked into half smile. "See now, that wasn't so hard, but um…" Gabriel trailed off as he thought of something helpful to say. "Are you going to tell him?"

Castiel looked up at him with wide, shocked eyes. "No. Never. That would never end well." He automatically blurted out.

Gabriel nodded very slowly. "You're probably right, but then again, maybe you're not. You never know." Gabriel waggled his eyebrows.

"I think we both do." Castiel darkly muttered.

Gabriel gave him a small assuring smile as he turned around to leave with a small shrug. "Sometimes the world does surprise you." He whispered before he vanished in a flurry of wings.

 _The only way the world has succeeded in surprising me is by turning on me. It doesn't end well, not any way that I can imagine. I doomed myself the moment I first laid eyes on him, but oddly enough, I am okay with that. As long as I knew Dean for some period of time, I am at peace with whatever happens to me after that_


	7. What Could Have Been and What Could Be

Dean avoided the phone by his bedside, refusing to even acknowledge it. To do that, he'd have to call Charlie and give her some made up mumbo jumbo story, and that was the last thing he wanted, so he lay in his hospital bed watching television.

He was perfectly well aware of the set of focused blue eyes incessantly observing his every move, but he had actually grown accustomed to it at that point. He hardly even noticed Castiel. It was almost as if he was still invisible to him. Dean _was_ purposefully shutting him out because of the situation surrounding Charlie. He felt sure that there was another option, but Castiel was just being a jerk about it.

There was a knock on the door, and Dean half expected it to be Charlie storming in and demanding answers. His mother had reluctantly gone home after his insisting that he was fine and that she needed real rest at the house. John had swung briefly by once since his first visit, and Sam was at school. Who else would it be? A nurse perhaps, or maybe a doctor. It could be Benny or Kevin. It could even be Jo, but something underneath Dean's skin made him fear it was Charlie.

"You should not keep your visitor waiting. It is rather rude." Castiel blurted out in his usual gruff monotone.

"Don't tell me what to do." Dean snapped back. He did not enjoy making it seem like he was listening to the angel, but he knew that whoever was at the door was there for a reason. "Come in." He rasped after a moment, his voice dry as he reached for a glass of water to remedy that.

There was a creak of the door, and very slowly and warily, Lisa crept in, her dark eyes not meeting Dean's out of either embarrassment or nervousness.

"Lisa?" Dean asked, remembering that she was the girl he had tried to save from the fire.

"Yes. The girl that I pulled out alongside you." Castiel supplied from his perch across the room that was invisible to the visiting girl.

Dean bit back his tongue from an instinct to throw an insult or a sarcastic comment at Castiel, but upon remembering that Lisa could not see or hear him, he decided it best not to.

"Hey Dean." She smiled sheepishly, her feet scuffing the cold, gray hospital floor. "I know you said not to thank you, but I… um… I really felt that I should." She hesitantly pulled out a bouquet of roses from behind her back where her arms had been previously tucked away.

"Lisa, you didn't have to do that…" Dean tried to assure her, feeling very awkward because her real hero was in the room silently watching her, and she would never know.

"I wanted to, Dean. You saved my life. It was the least I could do." She insisted, holding the flowers out to Dean.

"It was nothing. Really-" It was nothing. That was the truth. He had not actually managed to successfully get her out; Castiel had.

"Please just take them. You don't have to be so humble." Lisa did not cease to hold the flowers out to him. In fact, she edged them closer to him so that he could easily reach and grab them.

Dean took in a slightly larger than normal breath of defeat as he took the flowers and placed them on the nightstand where they could later get a vase. "Thank you, Lisa."

Liss gave him a warm smile. "Thank _you_ , Dean." She moved in closer to his bed to look down at him with some kind of look of adoration or respect.

"Don't mention it." Dean meant that very literally, but he said it in such a nonchalant manner that Lisa did not even pick up on it.

The look in Lisa's eyes did not fade as she bent over Dean from his bedside to plant a chaste kiss on his lips.

Dean was shocked for a moment, but then he relaxed and pulled Lisa back in for another kiss with more bite to it than the last, but it was still relatively small.

Lisa pulled back with a grin. "See you around, Dean." She turned and left the room, leaving Dean with the ghostly feel of soft lips brushing against his own and the bouquet of roses.

Castiel was silent. He just stood with an unchanged expression in the same spot that he had been before the encounter. "The roses will need water." He instructed, but there was no force behind the words. He just seemed to be filling the silence.

"Yeah. They will." Dean half grinned, not really listening to Castiel. Half of him was excited about Lisa and the kiss they had just shared, but some other nagging part of him told him not to go down that road, that it was not for him.

Castiel had never been jealous before, so he could not really place the emotion, but that did not stop him from feeling it. A seething rage began to build up under his skin that he was forced to keep in simply because Dean could not know.

He had stuck with Dean for the entire day, but he had been very silent while doing so, most of the time refusing even to make eye contact.

It frustrated Dean to no end because the hospital room was often empty apart from himself and Castiel, so he had tried to strike up a few conversations, but Castiel would not answer at all or reply only with a few terse words.

"What's the matter with you?" Dean finally snapped towards the end of the day.

"I am a interdimensional wavelength of celestial intent. I have no matter." Castiel deadpanned with an underlying tone of resentment.

Dean groaned as he leaned his head backwards and closed his eyes in frustration. "I mean," He forced out. "Why are you so mad?"

"I assure you that I am not insane." Castiel spoke with the same agitated tone.

Dean exhaled loudly. "I mean," He growled out. "Why are you upset with me? You're looking like you haven't pooped for weeks, and you're talking to me like I've just run over your puppy."

"I do not underst-" Castiel began to object, but Dean cut him off with a sharp glare. "It would appear that you are upset with me." He bluntly observed.

"Thanks for that, captain obvious." Dean grumbled. "Of course I'm upset. You've been acting like an unhappy wife all day, and you won't even tell me why."

"I am not a human female, nor are we in wedlock. I do not understand why you would say that." Castiel's brow furrowed in confusion.

"You know what, never mind." Dean exasperatedly raised his hands in defeat. "Be mad at me. See if I care." He grumbled as he swung his feet out of his bed and towards the door.

Castiel rose to his feet to follow Dean, and Dean immediately spun around to face him. "No." Dean waved a finger at the angel. "I'm trying to storm out. You can't just follow me." He sighed as Castiel continued to trudge towards him.

"I have to protect you, Dean." Castiel neutrally stated.

"Yeah. Fine. Whatever." Dean grunted as he went out the door, trying to pretend that Castiel was not still following him.

Dean made his way to the cafeteria where he got a burger and a piece of pie. He sat down at a table alone that was distant from any people in case Cas tried to talk to him. He didn't need to be sent to a different kind of hospital.

He bit ravenously into his burger, savoring every bite of the dull meat that had been over processed, but not caring because he had not eaten for a while. His whole stay at the hospital had left him with scarce food options, so a burger tasted good in comparison to the slop they called macaroni and cheese or whatever they insisted it was. Dean looked up from his plate to see Castiel sitting directly across from him, just silently squinting almost angrily at him as he ate.

Dean cast his glance both ways to check for any surrounding people, but there were none, so he hushed his voice down to a quiet groan. "I told you not to watch me eat."

"We don't always get what we want." Castiel snapped right back like a parent would, voice full of self-imposed knowledge that made its presence known through snarkiness.

"Tell me about it." Dean rolled his eyes, returning his attention back to the burger and taking another large bite out of it.

"I would rather not. That's not information I wish to disclose." Castiel mechanically reported.

Dean snorted before taking a sip from his glass of water and laying it back on the table with a small slam of glass on the table top, the water bouncing around slightly in recoil. "Secretive." He sarcastically commented. "My favorite kind of thing." He grinned, knowing that the flirtation would fly right over Castiel's head.

Castiel only tilted his head in response, his eyes narrowing again as he squinted them at Dean as if trying to figure him out as if he were some sort of puzzle to be solved.

Dean rolled his eyes before turning his complete attention back to his meal and ignoring Castiel's curious gaze that pierced his comfort zone. He would deal with him later; right now, he had food, and that could solve any problem.

It was inevitable as many things are, but that did not make Dean fret the moment any less. Charlie came over with questions in mind, and Dean knew that she would not leave until she had answers because that was just who she was. He wished that he could give her answers; he yearned to put her curious mind to rest, but he knew better than to evoke Castiel more than he apparently already had.

Charlie entered the room with a semi serious smile that spoke for her determination. Her eyes glinted with a good natured mischief and curiosity that was a banal part of her nature.

"Hey, Charles." Dean smiled up at her, his eyes glinted over with a completely different expression of nervousness and regret.

Charlie stopped by his bedside and smiled down at him before her hands flew to her hip suddenly as if she only just then remembered why she was there. "You better tell me what's going on, Dean Winchester." She spoke in the most firm and serious voice she could manage, but even underneath all of that, her voice still sounded like the verbal equivalent of a smile.

Dean took in what he could only hope was a barely noticeable gulp. "Okay,little miss bossypants." He managed to sound generally sarcastic as he rolled his eyes.

"Well." She gestured with her arms for him to continue. "What's been going on with you?"

Dean pursed his lips in quick thought. He had thought of what he was going to say when she confronted him; he had just hoped it would be later. "I was wrong. Remember how I said a man pulled me from the fire?"

Charlie nodded her head eagerly, silently encouraging him to continue.

"I was remembering the man who picked me up when I was at the tree and carried me to the ambulance. My mind just kind of scrambled things up." Dean made the excuse sound believable. It had to be if Charlie was going to buy it.

Charlie looked skeptical, her eyebrows slightly narrowed and her mouth drawn into a tight line, but she nodded as she saw the logic in the statement. Of course, she still could tell there was more to it than that. "What about when you ran out of the room? And all that stuff about angels?"

Dean cleared his throat, his eyes briefly darting towards Cas who was silently watching, his eyes narrowed and observant. "I thought I saw him through the window. The painkillers were kind of messing with my brain. I thought the guy was an angel. How weird is that?" Dean forced a laugh.

"That's not weird." Charlie indignantly replied. "It's romantic!" There was a certain excited gleam in her eyes that made Dean certain that she was going to accept the answers. "Imagine that! Saved by angel, who appears to you when you need him most. That would be too perfect."

"Too perfect." Dean snorted, his gaze dragged back to the glaring angel in the corner of the room.

The angel returned his gaze, and he held it for as long as Dean would look, which would not be too long because he soon refocused on Charlie, and they talked for hours while Castiel glared them both down in silence.

Charlie stayed for a few hours, but as soon as she took off, Castiel moved out of his corner and towards the foot of Dean's bed, his expression unchanging.

Dean only quirked an eyebrow at his approach, but he said nothing.

"I apologize for making you lie to your friend. I would also like to apologize for my behavior today. I should not have-" Castiel began to apologize, but Dean waved it off with a dismissive hand.

"Whatever, man. It's all water under the bridge. Just shut up and let's watch some TV." Dean jerked his gaze towards the television to indicate it, and Castiel's gaze soon followed.

"That was awfully rude, Dean." He noted.

Dean chuckled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "I know. Just sit down already."

Castiel eyed the foot of the bed warily, his blue eyes dripping with uncertainty. "Dean, I'm not sure if-" He was cut off as Dean shot him a small fake glare. Hesitantly, he sat down stiffly to watch the television.

Dean rolled his eyes, trying to discard the fact that he found that to be strangely adorable as he scooted forward in the bed until he was next to Castiel. "Here." He muttered as he put his hand on Castiel's back to ease it into a slightly slouching position, and taking Castiel's hands out of his lap to put them behind him in a resting position for him to lean on. Dean's breath came in unsteady rasps as he did so, only finding Cas to be more stunning the closer he was to him.

Castiel shot his gaze over to Dean as soon as he felt his hands on him, but strangely enough, he melted into the touch, deciding just to enjoy the moment while he had it.

"See? That wasn't so hard." Dean panted out, his eyes still locked on Castiel and his lips.

"But you're breathing seems to be becoming increasingly so." Castiel noted with a hint of curiosity and concern.

"Yeah…" Dean made no excuse. He simply pulled his gaze from Castiel and focused on the television to drown the thoughts of kissing the blue eyed angel.

Castiel accepted that as a dismissal, so he too redirected his attention towards the screen.

They were both still thinking about the moment, not even watching the television. Dean could not stop thinking about Castiel's lips, and Castiel could not stop thinking about how great Dean's hand felt in his own. He wished that he could do that again someday. If only it could happen.


End file.
